How the dull thought smites me dumb, "It will come!" and "It will come!" But to-day I am not dead; Life in hand and foot and head Leads me on its wondrous ways. 'T is in such poor, common days, Made of morning, noon, and night, Golden truth has leaped to light, Potent messages have sped, Torches flashed with running rays, World-runes started on their flight. Let it come, when come it must; But To-Day from out the dust Blooms and brightens like a flower, Fair with love, and faith, and power. Pluck it with unclouded will, From the great tree Igdrasil. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PHANTOM-LOVER [OR, WOOER] by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE LITTLE BLACK BOY, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE AELLA: MINSTREL'S MARRIAGE-SONG by THOMAS CHATTERTON NEUTRALITY LOATHSOME by ROBERT HERRICK I, TOO by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES |